Mind Games
by Narsus
Summary: The Agents might have another method to use against Neo but who's actually playing the games?
1. Setsuka

Mind Games 

Disclaimers: They belong to the Wachowski brothers, Time-Warner and whoever else…

Oddness warning, might be disturbing on some level…

            Crowds of office workers moved along the streets, the traffic blocked up the roads, the air was filled with pollution.  There was nothing to indicate that there was a difference now, within the Matrix.  As far as it's inhabitants knew, nothing had changed.  But there was a difference; a man, born within the Matrix who was changing the rules.  

Neo walked through the crowds, finally at ease with his abilities.  He cut a swathe through the rush hour populous, a single dark figure moving gracefully through this illusion.  Wearing what had become his trademark, trench coat and sunglasses, Neo paused at a newspaper stand, glancing over the headlines, wondering what the machines might say about him today.  Of course, they'd added his name to the lists of terrorists counted along with Morpheus.  The infamous 'Neo', accused of so very many crimes.  He'd read all the articles; the old ones about the terrorist attack on a Government building that had left almost the entire security staff dead, including three unnamed Special Agents, had made him laugh the most.  There had been later reports of another fatality among the Special Agents assigned to deal with the terrorist threat and the papers had called him a cold-blooded murder.  Not that it could be defined as murder, as far as Neo could see, especially since he'd killed Smith at least once before.

The Agents were still hunting him, though not so obviously.  They appeared to be concentrating on other rebels mainly, rebels that they could still deal with.  Neo couldn't help wondering what they'd do if he chose to confront them, perhaps they'd run, just like the other two had done, after he'd destroyed Smith.  He almost wanted them to come after him now… it was beginning to get boring, all this waiting.

He was about to continue on his way when an open page of a tabloid caught his eyes.  Paparazzi photographs of the macabre kind.  Neo bought the paper, beginning to read it as he continued down the street.  The photographs were the recently released rolls of film from a photographer that had been near by when the latest Special Agent casualty had occurred.  They showed the ambulance outside the hotel, where the exit had been.  There were police lines, crowds gathering, a covered stretcher carrying a body to the ambulance.  A white hand, splattered with blood, still bearing a platinum wedding band, was slightly visible from under the covers.  Neo wondered how they'd managed that, since Smith had exploded, as far as he could tell; and he should know, he'd been there.  In another photograph a strickened Special Agent sat with his head in his hands; his face couldn't be seen.  It was all theatrics, Neo decided, especially the addition of the wedding ring.  He supposed it gave the story emotional depth; that they could say this man wasn't just some Special Agent but also a husband and possibly a father.  Who ever was in charge of the propaganda for the machines seemed to be doing a pretty good job he had to admit.

Tucking the paper under his arm Neo headed for a near by park.  It was somewhere that he'd been used to visiting when he had still believed that this was all real.  Now all around him, he saw lies, infinite lies stretching out in every direction.  Lies that ensnared humanity.

Reaching the park Neo was surprised to find a woman stilling in his usual 'spot', on the bench the furthest from the children and adults roaming the laid out gardens of the park.  She wore a business suit with the skirt just a little shorter than the norm, her long brown hair framing a face partially obscured by her sunglasses.  Neo's boots crunched on the gravel path as he approached.  She glanced at him, briefly, probably expecting him to pass by.  He didn't.  In fact, he sat down on the bench too.

"Nice weather, we're having." Neo commented after a minute or so of staring into the distance.

"Oh?  Yes, yes I suppose it is." She replied; sounding a little startled that he'd spoken.

There was no further conversation.  Neo watched her discreetly, she didn't fidget but she was nervous, he could tell.  Good: he couldn't help liking that fact that he could throw people slightly off balance.  After a while she stood up and began to walk away.  Neo watched her leave, she was pretty, he decided… possibly even prettier than Trinity.  Of course, his currently view might have something to do with recent developments that had meant that Trinity was having to spend a lot of time away from him, with Morpheus.

After a few steps the woman turned back slightly, as if to glance at Neo.  He grinned at her and she quickly hurried on her way.  Steps surprisingly sure on the gravel despite her high-heels.

            It had begun to rain by the time he decided to leave the park.  He had just reached a more built up commercial area when the light drizzle became a heavy downpour.  Neo still continued to move steadily along the street, unbothered by the rain.  As he passed by the hurrying office workers, he noticed the woman from earlier, trying to shelter beneath her newspaper and failing miserably.

"Excuse me." He stepped up to her, putting up the umbrella that he was suddenly carrying, to shelter her.

She recognised him and smiled gratefully.  "Thank you." She whispered. "Which way are you going?" she gestured along the street.

"I'm not in a hurry.  I could walk you to your office…" Neo suggested, chivalrously.

"I couldn't ask you to do that…"

She wasn't wearing her sunglasses now so he could see her blue eyes.  Very pretty, Neo decided.

"Honestly, it's no trouble."

"If you're sure.  Thank you…" she said as they began to walk.

"Neo."

"Setsuka."

"Setsuka?  You don't look Japanese."

"I'm not.  But I'm sure your parents didn't name you 'Neo' either."

He grinned.

            Setsuka's office wasn't far and they walked in relative silence.  Reaching the main entrance the stopped facing each other.

"Thank you… Neo."

"It's alright."

They fell silent.

"I'd better go…" she trailed off.

"Yeah…"

"Umm…" she bit her lip, cutely.  "Would you… would you like to go for a drink… sometime?"

"Sure."

"Really?  You don't have to if you don't want to." She was looking up at him hopefully.

"Yes, really." Neo smiled broadly at her.

"After I finish work…"

"I'll meet you here."

She was smiling brightly.  "I'll see you later, Neo." And then she hurried up the steps into the building.

Neo watched her enter the building before continuing down the street; he had a couple of hours to kill.

            Inside the building two Agents stood waiting along a corridor.  As the doors of the elevator opened, they turned towards the woman who stepped out.  Setsuka moved along the corridor towards them, the click of her shoes sounding rhythmically.  Brown and Jones fell into step behind her as she passed.

"Report." She said, without turning or slowing her pace.

"Skeletal reconstruction at 28%." Brown said.

"Physical code defragmentation?" she queried.

"I will see to it." Jones replied, turned down another junction in the corridor.

            Entering an office, she sat down, while Brown perched himself on the desk to observe her.

"You have made contact with Anderson?" he enquired.

"Yes.  Tonight, I believe, I have a date." Her smile was sinister.

A glance down at her hand suddenly added perfectly applied nail varnish; red shot through with black, that the observant might notice as Chanel Rouge Noir.  She held a hand out to Brown for inspection.  He peered at her nails curiously.

"Anderson may not break so easily." He commented.

"It will take time." She conceded.

Brown frowned.

"Do you question my methods?" Her voice was deceptively soft.

"Of course not, Agent Smith."

TBC…

After writing "The Same" the point of AI sexual orientation came up and I'm inclined to agree that they would have no real gender definition; so then it's not beyond the realms of possibility that Smith could be rebooted in a female form, until his usual, male one was repaired.

As for the name: Setsuka Sakurazuka is Seishiro's mother and the previous Sakurazukamori (CLAMP's Tokyo Babylon & X/1999).

16:06, 24/05/02


	2. Just a drink

            Wondering along, through the thinning crowds of office workers that were slowly being replaced by school children and their parents, Neo tried to stop himself from smiling broadly.  He was just going for a drink; quite casually with a charming woman that he'd happened to meet… that was all.  It wasn't as if he had anything to get excited about, after all it wasn't a date.  It wasn't a date so he wasn't exactly cheating on Trinity… not technically.  Besides they weren't officially a couple, so it wasn't cheating.  Yes, he wasn't cheating since he didn't have anyone to cheat on… technically.  And it wasn't as if Setsuka was expecting anything else, she'd probably only asked him to go for a drink to say thank you… yeah, right.

Neo didn't bother to hide his grin this time.  He was lucky, he decided.  After all, how many guys could randomly go for a walk and meet a woman like that?  She was rather…  The grin got wider.

She was very pretty and very cute, with just the right hint of… something else.  He hadn't actually believed that women like that existed, until now.

Continuing to stroll along Neo wondered what she would be like, really.  It was possible that she might be nothing more than a pretty face but somehow he didn't think so.  He certainly hoped that she'd be more than that.  And if she was… well…  Neo bit his lip to stop his grin becoming obscene.

Jones entered the office to find Brown watching their superior stretching rather provocatively.  Silhouetted by the sunlight sliding in through the full-length windows, he could see the fabric stretch over her flesh as she arched her back.  Jones clenched his teeth in an effort to hold back some involuntary sound in response.  Noticing him, she paused mid-stretch before smiling seductively.  Slipping off the desk she had been sitting on, she crossed the room slowly.  Jones fancied the click of her shoes might well be a death knell.

Reaching them, she barely glanced at Brown.  Jones swallowed as she pressed up against him.  He held himself perfectly still.  Setsuka leaned forward slowly, lips parted, her breath ghosted across his skin.

"Report." She said.

Jones made a slight choking sound as she moved away.  "Physical… physical code defragmentation has begun." He said.

"Good." Was her only reply as she sat back down in one of the chairs.

Jones looked at her, ignoring the fact that Brown was smirking slightly.

"It will take time." Jones elaborated.

"It doesn't matter.  I think we have a far better method of…" she frowned searching for the correct word.

"Seducing." Brown supplied, less than helpfully.

Setsuka looked at him sharply. "Ensnaring." She corrected, stretching out her long legs to rest her feet on the desk.

"As far as human history is concerned, seduction has proved a valid method of undermining an opponent."

She didn't reply, though her blue eyes sparked with anger.

"Human males are especially susceptible." Brown ignored her look.

"Dismissed.  Go fetch me a reconstruction report." She snapped, waving a hand abruptly at them both.

            Jones obeyed but Brown lingered in the doorway.

"What is it, Brown?"

"If this plan is to work, you know what will be required, Smith."

"Yes… yes…"

Brown paused before throwing a last comment over his shoulder as he left.  "I hear that it is quite pleasant, by human standards."

There was no response.

            Sitting in the relative silence of the office, Agent Smith, in the guise of Setsuka, stared at an undetermined point in the distance.  He didn't object to the plan, not in principle anyway.  The physical implications of the lengths that might have to be gone to, didn't affect him in the same way that it might affect a human but…  But…

There lay the problem.   It wasn't the idea of being so close to another being in a physical body; the little demonstration with Jones had proven that point.  It wasn't anything as arbitrary as that.  What it finally came down to was the fact of having to yield and having to yield to that wretch, Anderson.  Smith didn't want to think about it… in fact, if Anderson came anywhere near him with those intentions, he'd be lucky if Smith didn't snap _it_ in half.  That was a visual that made him laugh.  Such a course of action probably wouldn't actually damage Anderson in the real world but it might provide a very nasty shock.

It was unfortunate that such action could not be pursued.  The rebels had to be undermined and the best way to achieve that would be to seduce their precious One.

            Smith had understood what the task would entail when he'd accepted it.  He knew what duty would require him to do but that didn't mean that he had to like it.  Which raised the question as to why he'd accepted the assignment if he found it so distasteful.  It was a matter of professional pride really, proving that he could deal with this particular rebel, just like he had dealt with all the others.

He resolutely ignored the suggestion that this was turning into a personal vendetta.

            Neo stood outside Setsuka's office, watching people pouring out of the building.  He scanned the crowd eagerly, trying to ignore the fact that she could easily have forgotten or even purposely left through another exit.  The crowd thinned and Neo shifted uneasily.  Then among the last office workers filing out of the building he spotted her.  She smiled brightly, hurrying up to him.

"Neo." She was a little breathless.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about me." He said smiling in return.

"Oh, no!"  Setsuka blushed at her quickness in response.  "I was held up in the office…"

"That's OK.  So, where shall we go?"

She bit her lip in concentration. "I don't really know." She said finally, laughing.

"I'm sure we'll find somewhere."

Setsuka slipped her arm through his as they walked, shyly peering up at him.  Neo grinned back.

            Much later that evening they tottered out of yet another bar, Neo having lost count of how many they had 'found' earlier in the evening.  Setsuka stumbled against him, giggling stupidly.  Neo was aware that he was giggling too, though he didn't know what about.  He helped her upright again and found himself staring into wide blue eyes.

It was instinct, when he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers.  For a second he was afraid that she wouldn't respond, when she suddenly froze, then she was kissing him back, lips parting to deepen the kiss.  He held her slim body tightly to his; forgetting about the rebel cause, being the One, even Trinity for the moment that stretched out before him.

They only parted when a wolf-whistle sounded clearly.  Neo looked up to see a drunken group cheer at them before staggering past.  Setsuka was blushing again.  She appeared about to say something but stumbled.  Neo caught her, easily supporting her slight weight since she wasn't looking too capable of supporting herself any more.

"We'd better get you home." He said gently.

"I guess." She murmured.

            Setsuka fell asleep in the taxi, leaning against him.  Neo continued to hold her.  When they reached her apartment building, he woke her but ended up carrying her inside.  She only seemed to realise that she was almost home when they reached the lift.

"Floor?"

"28." She muttered sleepily.

"Let's just hope the lift's working."

She laughed.  "Lift's always working."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She had her eyes closed.

            Neo stepped into the lift when it arrived, still carrying Setsuka.  She had her arms flung round his neck, eyes closed, soft lips slightly parted…  Even drunk there was something about her, Neo thought, something…

"Mmm…" she made a sound.

"Setsuka?"

"I was… was worried about this… before."

"This?"

"This." She said opening her eyes and looking up at him.  "I was worried about…"

"About what?  Me?"

"No, not you.  I thought it was but it wasn't, not really…"

"You're not making much sense right now." Neo said, still smiling.

"I am.  You just don't know what I'm talking about, that's all."

"And what are you talking about then?"

"Me."

"You?"

"Yeah…" she closed her eyes again and buried her face in his neck.  "Like the way you smell… not repulsive at all…"

"That's good to know." He replied but she was already asleep again.

            Reaching the door of her apartment, Neo regretfully woke Setsuka again.  He liked watching her sleep, he'd discovered on the journey here.  She let Neo set her on her feet and fiddled about in her bag, looking for her keys.  Finding the keys, she was distracted again by Neo kissing her.  The sensation of his arms around her, holding her close was overpowering.

"Neo…" she began as their lips parted.

"Yeah?" his voice was low and intimate.

She paused, not knowing what to say.  Luckily Neo recognised the hesitation for what it was and kissed her gently before moving back, to leave.  Setsuka hesitated again, on the verge of asking him to call her but halting at the last moment.

"I'll call you… soon." Neo said before leaning in to steal one last quick kiss and hurrying off towards the lift and then out of sight.

            Stepping inside the darkened apartment Setsuka leaned back against the now closed door shutting her eyes tightly.  Inside the relative safety of his female form Smith trembled.  He couldn't believe what had just happened.  He'd been of the verge of inviting Anderson in.  Of course that was most likely what he was supposed to do but… but…

"Well?" Brown's voice rang out in the silent apartment, pulling Smith out of his reverie.

Smith glared.

"I'm sure Anderson was at least… entertaining." Brown continued.

Smith pushed himself away from the door and tottered towards the bedroom.  Received no response Brown's lips parted to most likely make another dry comment.

"Stop bitching, Brown." He snapped, leaving Brown and Jones staring at him.  Unfortunately he didn't make it that far before his legs gave way.

In the end it was Jones who had to carry him to bed.

TBC…

01:19, 27/05/02


	3. The courtesy shower scene

            It was mid-morning; at least it appeared to be so from the light slanting in through Setsuka's apartment windows.  The living area of the luxury apartment was actually rather well furnished, with tasteful décor, not that the two current occupants would have noticed.

Agent Jones sat on one couch rigidly, every so often glancing towards the closed door that led to the bedroom.  Opposite, Agent Brown watched him, gaze unblinking behind his sunglasses.

"This assignment…" Jones began.

"May prove difficult." Brown said.

"Yes."

There was a pause.

"We are unable to provide much input." Jones said.

"We are only incidental to her assignment." Brown qualified.

"Her?"

"Setsuka."

"Setsuka… Why did you…"

"Choose that name?" Brown fell silent.

"I do not object…"

"You do not object to _her_."

Jones didn't reply.  The silence stretched out between the two Agents.  Eventually Brown got up and walked over to the windows, his back to the rest of the room.

"This assignment was not advisable." He said. "Smith is too… involved… in this situation already."

"What are you suggesting, Brown?"

Brown turned back to face the interior of the room. "He is treating this assignment as if it were a personal vendetta."

"That will not matter once Anderson had been removed."

Brown bit his lip.  With his already faltering objectivity, Brown wasn't sure that Smith would actually get that far.

"Perhaps you should go check on her, Jones." Was all he said and predictably the other Agent left the room to do so.

"It will matter, especially if he becomes too involved… with Anderson." Brown muttered under his breath.

            Entering the bedroom, Jones found it unoccupied and then the sound of water running caught his attention.  The bathroom door was closed but not locked, so Jones slowly pushed it open.  His sunglasses were immediately steamed up, as he put his head round the door, not that it inhibited his visual sensors in any way.  Jones could easily make out the figure defined in shadow through the shower curtain.

Of course, her silhouette was perfect; just as Jones had known it would be.  He could see all the angles and curves that defined the female shape not a meter away from him.  Perfect; perfection defined by the knowledge that this was a sentient program, the example of what all sentient programs should be… as far as Jones was concerned.

Unbidden he found himself imagining the streams of water cascading down her body, the steam clinging to her damp skin, what that would feel like under his fingers…  She would be beautiful; damp hair clinging to her skin, soft lips parted, eyes fluttering closed.  Would she make some soft sound of pleasure as she yielded?  A low moan, so suited to her smooth voice as her slim body arched beneath him… perhaps…

            The flow of water stopped abruptly and the shower curtain was pushed completely back.  Unwarranted, Jones' gaze trailed up the form presented, taking in the pallor of the flesh, the droplets of water tracking their own path down her skin, each detail ingraining itself upon his memory.  Now with only the barrier of the fading steam enclosing her, she stood, not even making an attempt at modesty.

Setsuka stretched her arms above her head, uncaring of Jones' presence.  Not that she hadn't noticed; the diabolical glint in her blue eyes confirmed that.  She stepped out of the bath as Jones' lingering stare reached her face and smiled.  Jones coughed, uneasily and fumbled to hand her a towel.  Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the towel, idly trailing it behind her as she sauntered out of the bathroom.  Leaving Jones standing, speechless in the damp air.

Jones, regaining his senses began to make his way back to the living area.  He said nothing to Brown's knowing look.  In a few moments Setsuka joined them.  Jones kept his eyes averted.

"Interesting." Brown commented.

"I have nothing to do till Anderson chooses to contact me so…  You don't object, do you Brown?" her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Jones hazarded a glance in her direction only to wish that he hadn't.  She was perched on one of the stools by the kitchen area, dressed only in black, silk underwear.  He could see the thin strip of lace that joined the two sections of silk that covered her between her long legs, in the barest imitation of modesty.  Any movement of her part lifted the looser top, which already bared her arms, to expose her smooth stomach too.  Jones swallowed, uneasily.  He wasn't sure he could deal with an entire day of this.

"_You_ don't object do you… Jones?" she turned her seductive gaze upon him.

"Uh… no…" he replied hesitantly, looking at his feet.

Smiling she moved to seat herself on the couch with Jones.  Brown watched, withholding any further comments.  She turned to sit sideways, resting her feet in Jones' lap, the arch of one foot dangerously close to his crotch.

"You see." She directed the comment to Brown.

Brown made some derisive sound of agreement before disappearing briefly into one of the vacant rooms in the apartment.  He returned with a laptop that he proceeded to set up on the dining table before silently beginning to type.

Setsuka, for her part, proceeded to do nothing more sinister than sift through some bottles of nail varnish on the table next to the couch.  Having decided on a new colour she had Jones hold a bottle labelled "Chanel Clair Obscur", while she proceeded with the business of painting her nails.

            Days later, within the Matrix, Neo was walking towards the park again.  He was in an exceptionally good mood, grinning at people he passed, almost whistling in his progress along the pavement.

He'd returned to the Neb after his 'date' with some trepidation.  Wondering what Trinity might have to say about his recent escapade.  Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how he looked at it, she hadn't been there.  He'd found that she was still involved in complex matters in Zion, with Morpheus.  For some reason that had made him irrationally angry.  Of course she was entitled to do as she pleased but… but…  Trinity was her own person, she had been before Neo and she definitely still was now.  It was just that he'd appreciate some time… that was all.

Neo ignored the nagging voice of reason that told him he was being childish.  At least Setsuka appreciated him.  She didn't mind him taking the lead, didn't second-guess him…  He shook off his depressing thoughts, resolving not to think about Trinity any more.  She had her own life to lead, well, fine… so did he.

            In the end Neo detoured to the nearest phone box rather than the park.  He rang Setsuka and just hoped that she'd check her answering machine before the evening.  Surprisingly she was at home.  Neo hadn't been sure if she would be, seeing as he lost track of days within the Matrix and wasn't even sure if it was a weekday or not.

"Hello?" she sounded sleepy.

"Hello, Setsuka.  It's Neo."

"Hi…" her voice was suddenly soft.

"I was wondering if you'd like to… you know, go out again some time?" He tried to keep the grin out of his voice.

"Sure!  Uh… I mean yes, I'd love to." Neo could imagine her blush.

"How about… that is if you don't already have plans, how about tonight?"

"Tonight's fine.  When and where?"

"Um…" Neo frowned, trying to think quickly of somewhere appropriate.

"Neo?"

"Oh, sorry… I can't remember the name of the restaurant… that's all…" he laughed nervously.

"Oh." She laughed along.

"You do like Chinese, right?"

"Yeah."

"OK, I'll pick you up… at 8?"

"OK… Neo… I'm glad you called."

"I am too." He was grinning obscenely now, mental monolog going something to the effect of 'I am _too_ smooth'.

"See you later."

"Yeah…"

Hanging up the phone, there was a definite swagger in Neo's walk.  Not only was he incredibly smooth but he had a perfect evening with a beautiful woman ahead…

Now all he had to do was find a car… and a Chinese restaurant.

OK… I think the rating will have to go up.

Also I don't really think that Neo would cheat on Trinity but for the sake of experimenting with an idea I'm employing a little 'suspension of disbelief'.

22:48, 28/05/02


	4. An indefinite article

            In the end Neo was able to acquire a car and a recommendation for a Chinese restaurant.  The change of clothes was the easy part.

Driving past all the oblivious souls going about their business he was struck by the eerie normality of the whole situation.  It would be so easy to pretend that this was just a regular day: that he was Thomas A Anderson, Programmer for a respectable software company on his way to pick up his date for the evening.  And wasn't that the truth in a way?

As far as Setsuka was concerned that was the truth.

The thought was sobering.  As far as she was concerned this was reality, all that there was.  Just like all the people out there.  They never dreamed that anything else existed, never feared the machines…

            Luckily there was no further time for contemplation because he had arrived at Setsuka's apartment block and she was already waiting outside.

            The drive to the restaurant was punctuated by polite conversation and shy smiles.  Despite his earlier self-assurance there was something about being here, with Setsuka that threw him pleasantly off balance.  Regardless of the apparent predictability of her actions, Neo was sure that there was something else beneath the surface, something that made her dangerously alluring.

            Once at the restaurant again it was a simple task to bend the fabric of the Matrix, so that they already had a reservation.  Setsuka shivered suddenly.  Neo put an arm round her, enquiring if she was alright with a look.

"Déjà vu, that's all." She said with a self-depreciating smile.

"Yeah?" He wasn't worried.  It was more than likely that he had been the cause of it.

They turned their attention to the waiter who was now leading them to their table.

"You think of everything." Setsuka murmured, flicking a quick glance up at Neo, referring to their reservation.

Neo grinned, "Well, you know, plan for every eventuality…"

            The conversation over dinner was light and more inclined to innuendo and banter than any serious topic, until strangely the question of state control arose.  Neo couldn't remember how the conversation had arrived at that point but he was intrigued by Setsuka's insistence that state controls applied to society for it's own good were not such a bad thing.

"But don't you worry that the state might have too much power?" he asked.

"No." She turned her attention to the piece of squid that she held between two chopsticks.

"No?"

"No.  Because power has nothing to do with it."

Neo questioned her with a glance.

"It's only a matter of power when one becomes ambitious for reasons pertaining to self.  State control isn't to do with self; it's to do with society.  It's the control that protects all the individuals within that society, upholds their rights…"

"By controlling them?"

She sighed, "Alright, I'll put it another way… In "Leviathan" by Thomas Hobbes he explains that people give up the 'state of nature' where they can do what ever they want, and everyone else can do what ever they want too, for rules and laws: an establishment of Order that will protect them.  Isn't that better than people fighting each other over arbitrary things?"

"Yes…" Neo answered warily "But what about the people who hold the power, the ones who make those laws?"

"What about them?"

"What if they become corrupt and self serving?  What if they forget that they are meant to protect society?"

She lifted her head, looking him directly in the eyes, "They won't."

Neo looked at her curiously.

"That is… we have to believe they won't." she said quickly, smiling sheepishly.  "Or maybe I'm just being too idealistic." She continued, smile becoming wistful.

He smiled back, reaching out to squeeze her hand across the table.  "Maybe idealism is a good way to go."

They ate in silence for a little while after, until Setsuka spoke again, "So would you call yourself an idealist, Neo?" a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Yeah, I'd say so.  I believe in free will, being able to make your own decisions…"

"You're Pro-Choice, then?" she was grinning cheekily.

"That too." He grinned back.

"But seriously, would you really want to live in the 'state of nature'?  I'm curious."

"I guess.  If it was an all or nothing situation, where the choice was total freedom or total control, I'd go for the freedom every time."

Red pill or blue pill, Neo added mentally.  Red every time.

Red pill or blue pill, Setsuka wondered.  There was no red pill.

Each caught in their own reflections neither noticed the other's distraction until a waiter approached to refill the teapot.  Both smiled at each other, putting aside all other thoughts for the moment.

The conversation drifted away from such serious topics again.  Neo kept to light hearted answers.  Setsuka steered away from controversial topics.

"So, what is it that you do exactly?" she asked, with that small smile of hers.

"Not much… well, I used to be a programmer for CorTechs but I'm kind of free-lance now."

"Oh.

"And you?"

"It's pretty boring… Government stuff.  Dealing with irregularities in the system, that sort of thing."

"Oh."

            Finally, when the waiter brought the bill there was a small disagreement, when Setsuka insisted on paying her half.  She'd already slipped her credit card out of her handbag when Neo managed to win the dispute.  He caught part of the name on her card as she put it back into her bag, her initial 'A'.

'A' as in the indefinite article, as if she were some generic Agent.

Neo wondered; that made her an Angela or an Anna or an Andrea or something.  Not that any of those names truly fitted her, she was… Setsuka.

            Later they stood on one of the paths by the river, watching the lights from the other side reflecting on the water.  Neo had an arm around Setsuka and she leaned against him.

"Do you really think that society needs to be controlled?" he asked without looking at her.

She lifted her head from his shoulder "Are you still thinking about that?"

He didn't reply.

"It means a lot to you, doesn't it, free will?" her voice was hushed.

"Yeah, it's perhaps the most important part of being human."

"Even if that free will is abused?  After all, look at all the destruction that is caused by human choice."

"Still…" his gaze held hers.

"Look at what has become of the world…"

"Yes… But we have to be able to learn from our mistakes."

"But what if it is already too late?" she barely whispered turning her face away.

For a moment he said nothing and a frown creased his brow.  But Setsuka didn't notice; she wasn't looking.

"We just have to hope that it isn't too late." Neo said, tilting her chin up so that their eyes locked.  Setsuka's startled gaze met his utterly calm expression.

"Neo…"

And then he leaned forward and kissed her.  Her eyes fluttered closed as she yielded to his touch.

Neo held her tightly as they kissed, feeling all resistance leave her body.  While it lasted everything else fell away, all rebel concerns, the problem of the existence of the Matrix, everything.  And he could have just been the mundane Thomas A Anderson… for all that it mattered.

OK, I know in "Leviathan" Thomas Hobbes is actually talking about the absolute monarch rather than the state but other than that the theory applies.

Setsuka also subscribes to the Trustee model of government, it would seem.

Incidentally, she doesn't have to consider the Realist tradition of political thought directly because the machines _should_ be incorruptible.

The company that Neo used to work for is quoted from the 1997 script by the Wachowskis.

As for the pills: for the Agents there is no red pill and to risk sounding like Anne Rice's Lestat, it's a choice they never have.

23:52, 04/06/02


	5. And a sex scene

            It was dark when Setsuka stepped back into her apartment.  Someone had actually taken the time to turn off the almost constant light in the living area but had left the blinds open so that the lights of the city filtered through.  She slipped off her shoes and padded soundlessly over to the windows.  The expression on her face was unreadable, the blank mask-like look so familiar for an Agent.  Only the glint in her eyes could have indicated something, if it hadn't been hidden by the darkness.

            The assignment was going well; with every step Anderson was growing more trusting.  Fairly soon the human would be pouring out his secrets to the machines.  Not that Smith would be particularly interested when that occurred, after that point the assignment and Anderson would most likely loose interest.  A broken human was never very much of a challenge.  Though he would enjoy watching Anderson break…  Yes, that would be the case, but if that were true then why was he asserting the obvious so incessantly… almost as if he was trying to convince himself of it?  Smith brushed the thought aside.  Anderson would be crushed, that was all.  And then?  Perhaps the rebels would fail and the humans left in the real world could be removed…  Without their precious One they would falter…

Unbidden came the thought; what will he do once he's knows the truth?  What will he do once he knows that it was because of me?  And for some reason Smith was suddenly blinking rapidly to clear his vision, the thought of Ne- Anderson broken once and for all strangely unappealing.

            Such thoughts were too disturbing, Smith decided.  He turned away from the windows only to almost walk straight into Brown, who steadied the slighter female form as she stumbled.  Pulling back, angrily, Smith glared when Brown didn't release him.

"Brown…" his normal warning growl seemed somehow diminished in the current situation.

The only response was an assessing look, one that made Smith a great deal uneasier in his female form.  "I am beginning to see why they are both reacting the way they do."

"They?" Smith was hesitant.

"Jones… and Anderson." Brown smiled slightly, before pulling Setsuka against him and kissing her forcefully.

            The short journey to the bedroom was a blur through which there were other things to concentrate on, than the whereabouts of Jones.  The brief sensation of being pushed backwards, followed by the feel of the bedcovers underneath her were the barest distraction in comparison to bruising kisses and strong hands.

            Then Brown was on top of her and Setsuka could imagine the trail of bruises that his touch would leave on her pale skin.  The rough caresses were hardly a bother to her though, since she would have already most likely drawn blood if he had not still been wearing his suit jacket.  Unfortunately Brown appeared to be hampered in his progress by his apparent inability to remove any of her clothing successfully.

"Stop." Setsuka said quietly and immediately he obeyed, sitting back and looking slightly worried.  She slid off the bed and stood up facing the other direction, seemingly ignoring him.

Brown opened his mouth to say something before deciding that anything he might say probably wouldn't be a good idea anyway.  Instead he stood up, unsure as to what he should do next.

"Take your clothes off." She said without turning.

He blinked, considering running an internal diagnostic on his audio sensors.

"I gave you an order, Brown." There was just a hint of underlying menace in her tone.

A little uneasily he obeyed, slipping of the jacket first and for a moment clutching it as if for some uncertain security before dropping it on a nearby chair.  The sunglasses, that he'd somehow managed to keep on earlier followed, next came the standard issue gun and holster.  She smirked at his hesitance.

He pulled his tie loose, taking another steadying breath as he began to remove his shirt.  Still she remained with her back to him.

Brown removed his earpiece with attached electronics slowly, not quite daring to look up at her, even though he couldn't see her face.  He took his time removing shoes and socks, somehow hoping that she's say something or give some indication that she was intending something other than just humiliating him.

He'd always been a little afraid of Smith really, in his normal male form the superior Agent had never been quite predictable, always just verging on instability, enough so that it could be used against him but in this female form…  Setsuka was equally unpredictable but somehow in playing this part Smith was exercising far more self-control that he'd exhibited before, making him even more dangerous.  An Agent with a vindictive streak was often deadly but one capable of manipulating the emotional response of others…

Brown kept up the mental analysis to keep from focusing on the fact that he was at the point of removing his underwear now.  Normally he would have guessed at something physically painful being melted out but now he wasn't so sure.  There was no telling what she would do to him.  If only some convenient distraction would arise, his gaze flickered over to the discarded hardwire, but he'd managed to contrive to send Jones off on some errand earlier and it was very unlikely, considering the current state of affairs, that the other Agent would come to his rescue anyway.

            "Close your eyes." She whispered and he obeyed.  What ever she had planned was most likely already to late to avert.  The sound of her footsteps muffled by the carpet sounded loudly as she approached, stopping mere inches from him.  He could feel the warmth of her body, her the sound of her breathing or was that his?  Yet she did nothing, standing there watching him in the darkness.  He bit his lip, trying to control the rising tide of unease, desperate not to show any weakness that she might use against him.  It was the anticipation that was doing the damage, Brown realised, the very fact of standing there waiting that was tearing at his sanity.  She moved round to stand behind him and he felt her warm breath ghost across his skin as she let out a low chuckle.  The touch of her cool hands sliding up his back was a shock.  She slid her hands over his skin, reaching round to cover his eyes.  He exhaled sharply as she pressed up behind him, brushing her lips against his ear before she spoke again in those same low tones "Do you like this?  Is this what you wanted?"

Brown made no reply, guessing that anything he did say might easily be used against him.  Setsuka only laughed softly at his silence.  The quite suddenly, out of nowhere she was pressing a strip of cloth against his closed eyes, effectively blindfolding him.

She moved round to stand in front of him, trailing a proprietary hand over his almost hairless chest.  Her lips pressed gently against his, for a moment before she began to trail soft, lingering kisses downwards, long-nailed hands moving down a separate path, scratching lightly against his skin.  He didn't move, instinctively knowing that these were the rules of her game.  She paused, resting her cheek against his smooth stomach as she idly trailed the tip of a sharp nail over his hip.  He felt the expulsion of her breath in a sharp gust of laughter.  Brown clenched his hands into fists, rapidly loosing the battle with his self-control.  And then her soft lips were surrounding him, moist and warm, teasing expertly.

It was programming, just programming or so Brown told himself.  Setsuka was exquisitely female down to the last calculated detail.  None of this really meant anything; Smith was probably regarding this as a field-test of subroutines required for this assignment.

Quite suddenly Brown felt cool air against his now damp skin.  He heard the sound of Setsuka getting to her feet; she backed off a little and stood facing him.

"Brown?"

"Yes?" he managed to reply.

"Why are you resisting?"

Brown didn't say anything, surprised into silence.  He wasn't meant to resist?  This wasn't meant to be just some test?  The idea hadn't occurred to him until now that this might be anything other than the usual power games that they always seemed to end up playing.

            Setsuka took hold of Brown's hands, pulling him towards the bed, seeing as he seemed incapable of any response of his own volition.  He hesitated and biting her lip to conceal her growing frustration Setsuka shoved him down onto the bed.  A startled expression crossed his face.

"Stay there." She snapped and predictably Brown ceased to fidget.

Blue eyes fixed on the supine Agent, Setsuka began to remove her clothing with quick, efficient movement.  And as the last article of clothing was discarded she let a predatory smile creep over her features.

She straddled him, letting out a low moan as she seated herself.  Intertwining her fingers with his, pressing their joined hands down against the pillows above his head, she bent over him, letting the weigh of her hair rest against his skin.

Brown gasped as she began to move, slowly at first, as if savouring the perfect melding of their bodies.  Now he almost wished that he wasn't blindfolded; wanting to see her outlined by the synthetic lights slanting in through the windows, the gleaming sheen of sweat on her skin, her lips parted with audible cries of pleasure.  Wanting to see her loose control…

It was morning, or so Brown's internal sensors told him.  This fact was corroborated by the sunlight that had increased to room temperature slightly since last night.  He considered lifting his head to observe his surroundings but a long-nailed hand that ran fingers through his short hair aborted that action.  Engaging proximity sensors revealed what Brown had initially suspected; that he indeed had his head pillowed in Setsuka's rather accommodating cleavage.  He turned his head slightly, placing a light kiss against one breast and was rewarded with a light chuckle.

"You are displaying an overt fondness for female anatomy, Brown."

"I do not agree, Smith.  What is the basis for your conclusion?"

"You have not done _that_ before." Setsuka said, referring to Brown's recent action.

"I have not been _top_ before." Brown replied, with a hint of a wiry smile.

That took a while!  Actually this would have been finished sooner but I was interrupted the first time I sat down to write it and had some difficulty in coming back to it since I've started a new job, etc…

To answer the comment about Smith's male form being out of commission even though his main program i.e. his mind is intact, you have to assume that the code that generates his male form is being defragged etc and so in the same way that you can't use your hard drive while you're defragging, he can't access the code that generates his male form.  Of course, that's just artistic conjecture on my part for the sake of the story, but that's my attempt at an explanation.

Also extra thanks to Cattleya and the Hyper Angel for poking me about getting on with this fic.

21:49, 18/07/02 


	6. Reflex reaction

            Jones ignored Brown when he re-entered the apartment that morning, moving to stare out of the windows for long moments occasionally running data access codes to facilitate transmissions through his earpiece.  Brown sat silently on the couch watching the larger Agent, waiting.  There was a level of tension in the air, of anticipation that might well prove fatal to either of them.  All it would take would be the acknowledgement of that tension by either of them to start the downwards spiral.

In the end it was Jones who broke the silence, far more irritated than he let on by Brown's continual calm.

"What did you do?" he didn't turn round.

Brown looked faintly surprised at the question.  He paused before replying "I do not understand-" breaking off as Jones turned the full force of his glare on him.

"What did you do, this time, Brown?"

"This time?"

"I can calculate the probability of it being your action that has been the cause of this latest communications breakdown."

Brown didn't reply.  Of course Jones would be able to tell if something was amiss even if Smith wasn't directly connected to the rest of them via a hardwire.  The only problem was that Brown hadn't noticed anything wrong before.  He ran a quick check along the various communication channels that linked Agent teams together, only to be greeted with dead space from Smith.

Brown stood up then froze in place, just as Jones had, while they received an incoming order update.  The transfer only took the barest part of a second and then both Agents were turning to face each other.  Jones smirked.  Brown on the other hand barely managed to hide his disconcerted expression.

"Anderson was meant to die… quickly." Brown said finally.

Jones shrugged.

"The longer he is kept alive, the more dangerous this assignment will become."

Again Jones seemed unperturbed.

"And if he discovers Setsuka's real identity…" Brown left the thought unfinished.

"It is nothing that Smith can not deal with." Jones sounded almost too placid.

Brown blinked in surprise "Like last time?" he asked coldly.

"It is not a matter that is in your hands, Brown." Jones pointed out.

"Like last time." Came a cool voice from the bedroom doorway.  Both Agents turned to face their superior as she made her way across the room.

"I have requested that my orders be amended… As you now know." She smiled, cat-like.

"But Anderson-" Brown began.

"Will be of more use to us alive… for the moment."

"But…"

"Oh, don't worry, he will die… eventually."  She laughed softly, now draping herself against Jones.

Brown stared at them both, he might as well have been staring at an even further distorted version of  "Snow Glass Apples" for all that Smith's reassurances affected him.  Except, Brown reflected, that this time the Princess was wearing a pair of high-heels and the Prince wasn't actually human to start with.

            Not long after that particular revelation Brown was sent off to run further diagnostics on the currently dormant section of Smith's code, not that it couldn't be done from Setsuka's apartment but he'd been dismissed anyway.

            Setsuka stared out of the window as Brown left.  She was wearing a grey tailored suit, with skirt, standard Agent issue sunglasses and an earpiece.  All in all she looked exactly like a female Agent should look, if there was such a thing.

But there weren't.

The system didn't make certain distinctions in the same way that humans did, so the matter of male and female gender assignment had never arisen.  Agent Smith was… Agent Smith regardless of appearance in the physical construct.  Of course Smith was currently masquerading as a human who called herself Setsuka but that didn't really make that much of a difference to the machines.

            Smith frowned down at his female form, clad in her grey suit.  He didn't know why he'd chosen to dress like this, this morning.  He wondered if it might have something to do with last night's episode with Brown or the fact that Neo was actually quite an interesting…  Anderson, Smith corrected himself, the human's name was Anderson, Thomas A, regardless of what he called himself.

Smith was almost startled when he felt a pair of large hands rest on his waist, then he remembered that Jones was still there, most likely with nothing much to do.

"Do you think it unreasonable to want to prolong Anderson's suffering?" Smith asked in a strangely uncertain tone.  Jones' arms encircled him now.

"No." came the definite reply.

"Mmm…" Smith leaned back, letting his eyes fall closed. "You never disagree with me, Jones."

"That is incorrect."

A low chuckle was Smith's reply.

"You believe that Agent Brown is a valuable member of this team."

"And you believe?"

"That he is a… prat."

"Your perception is not particularly objective, Jones."

"I disagree.  Brown wastes valuable time pursuing various pointless avenues of enquiry."

"Regarding?"

"Everything."

"If you are referring to…" Smith turned his head to the side shooting a sly glance up at Jones' face.

"Yes."

"It is an experiment."

"A pointless experiment."

"Actually, no, especially considering the terms of this assignment."

Jones fell silent; he didn't want to think about that particular facet of the current situation.  The fact that Smith had consented to… to engage in Brown's previous 'experiments' angered him beyond words but the thought of the human also…  Jones ground his teeth in repressed fury.

"Jones?"

His gaze focused to find Setsuka staring up at him.  She had removed her sunglasses.

She would have been pretty by human standards, even if she hadn't been a machine, Jones supposed.  But then she would have been simply another dull, uninteresting mammal.  There would have been no perfectly calculating intellect, no cold core of strength, no intricacies of code that so beguiled him.  Though that would have had the advantage of no Brown to take her away from him.

Jones peered down at her.  Not really expecting any sort of reply she had closed her eyes and laid her head back against his chest.  She was smiling faintly.

"If only the system was as secure as this." She murmured, barely audible; enjoying the comfort of his arms. "I always feel so safe here… like this…"

            Brown purposely took longer than required to complete his task.  Somehow he didn't want to go back just yet, which irrational though it was, didn't change the matter.  Humans always maintained that sex complicated things, Brown recalled.  He hadn't given the human maxim any thought until now.  He should have considered it before, he supposed; that many generations who had briefly colonised a planet probably weren't wrong.

It had been supposed to be an experiment, since Agents were capable of the full range of human functions.  He didn't think about why he'd suggested it to Smith instead of Jones.  An experiment to test out a particular human function, one that the vast majority of the human population seems to find relatively addictive.  Sex wasn't supposed to mean anything to a machine.  It wasn't necessary for the procreation of their species, didn't have any ritual significance, wasn't something that signified any sort of attachment.  Not that many machines formed particular attachments to each other, not in the way that humans did anyway.  There were odd instances where two sentient programs might be so closely integrated that they became indistinguishable as two separate entities but it wasn't the same as human 'bonding'.  Humans were never so closely joined, they always remained separate.

Perhaps being forced to spend so much time among the humans was contaminating him.  Brown was secretly beginning to wonder if Smith had been right in saying that they had somehow become infected by the viral populous of the physical construct.  But… wouldn't it be of more use to the system if they understood the humans on some level, to better control them.  Yet if that was the case, then why did it feel like he was making excuses?

If it was simply the problem of understanding the humans to control them then why did it disturb him this much?  Brown had considered the almost heretical theory that perhaps emotions might not be such a bad thing previously but had reached no definite conclusion… and any conclusion he might reach would be coloured by his perceptions of the current situation.

If only Smith could be persuaded to kill Anderson quickly…  That would deal with at least one problem; then Brown only had Jones left to be jealous of.

Brown mentally shook himself as he stopped outside the apartment door.  He didn't want to go in.  Why?  It was foolish, an almost human reaction.  Why was he even jealous of Jones?  He was a machine and as such didn't need that sort of attachment.  Pure logic and programming didn't need diluting by frail emotions…  And with that thought Brown stepped back into the apartment, only to wish that he hadn't.

Inside framed by the windows, Setsuka stood with her eyes closed, leaning back into Jones' arms.  The larger Agent held her possessively, looking down at her with his normal blank expression.

Brown had to unclench his jaw to announce that he'd completed his report.  It had been, as his internal diagnostic specified, a reflex reaction.

Again another section that took too long to finish.  This is happening more frequently now… that I write most of the section then end up being interrupted on the last paragraph.

"Snow Glass Apples" is a short story by Neil Gaiman… with a different take on the whole "Snow White" story.

Thank you again to those people who've been kind enough to review.  To the Hyper Angel for the award I received for my Matrix fiction: and Cattleya for translating "Mind Games" into Chinese.

Also thanks to Sakura-chan and 'Ruby Moon' for listening to me go on about my convoluted plot, and feeding me cake!

13:51, 31/08/02


	7. An agent

            Jones and Brown sat on opposite couches in the living room of Setsuka's apartment, ignoring each other.  They hadn't engaged in verbal communication since Brown's report, not that it was anything unusual for Agents to remain silent for long periods of time or to sit so still.  In fact there had been no more communication since Setsuka had retired to her bedroom, closing the door behind her without further explanation.

            Inside the bedroom Setsuka lay on the bed, eyes closed, hands folded together, looking much like some variation on a corpse.  On close inspection the rise and fall of her breast might be seen, with each steady breath but other than that she was immobile.  She didn't move other than necessary, though she wasn't sleeping.

Smith was thinking; behind the darkness of his eyelids, ignoring the beating of his synthetic heart, closed off from all external communications.  He was thinking about everything that had happened, how he had reacted, how Brown and Jones had reacted and more importantly, why they had each reacted in the ways that they had done…

            The problem with the situation was something so simple that Smith had previously overlooked it; it was so simple that he hadn't even considered it.  But no one else had really noticed either, not his superiors, not Jones, not Brown.  Wasn't it supposed to be part of Brown's function, to notice errors within their team?  Then again none of them were really being that objective, all things considered.

The problem, Smith was forced to admit, was the fact that he should have never been given this assignment.  No matter how loud he'd argued or how long he'd pleaded, his superiors should have denied his request to be allowed to terminate Anderson.  He just wasn't qualified to deal with it right now, not so close to his defeat at the human's hands.  Yet not only had he been given this assignment but they had also agreed to his request that Anderson's life be prolonged so that he could be manipulated further.  Not that Smith was sure he could do that either and if he did, whom would really be manipulating whom?  Still, now that the assignment was his, with modifications, he would do as ordered… and he would stop muttering 'Anderson' under his breath as a means to ignore the fact that in his mind he kept saying 'Neo'.

            One should always be aware of one's self as well as one's enemies, or so a human strategist had once said.  It was something that Brown had quoted on several occasions but failed to implement.  Smith wondered about that, as Agents they might not be infallible but they should be pretty close to it.  Unfortunately while he was being adversely affected by the situation so were Brown and Jones.

Brown's curiosity had always been a little disturbing.  The lengths that he had gone to with his 'experiments' were enough to make most Agents wary.  The latest 'experiment' had been the worst.  It should have been something basic, not at all complex but had turned in to, as far as Smith could see, just a complicated series of power games.  Under other circumstances Smith might have been able to ignore Brown's request, might have been able to order him to stop this foolishness but matters had progressed and there really was no way of backing out.

Brown had always been so very insistent, his intensity almost frightening… which was why, he'd more often than not turned to Jones.  Not that Jones was much more use.  The other Agent had never been so insistent in any demanding fashion but Jones was as equally intense in other matters.  There had always been something about Jones, his possessiveness bordering on obsession.  That was why, in the end Smith had tried to lessen any possible dependence on Jones only to find that to do so meant that he had submit to Brown's 'experiments' because… because…

To refuse might lessen his control and yet it seemed to be happening anyway, regardless of what he did.  Control… it was the one thing that Smith was supposed to hold on to, the one thing that he couldn't help feeling that he'd already lost; to Jones, to Brown, even to Neo.

Everything had become not action but reaction.

            Setsuka sat up on the bed, opening her eyes.  She had another date with Neo later.  Her slight sigh was gentle as she ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing the chesnut tresses back behind an ear.  It was time to face the physical construct again, to stop hiding from her assignment in this apartment with two other neurotic Agents.  Actually an evening with Neo didn't seem like such a bad thing.  He was very considerate and kind, very gentle.  He always seemed to know what to say, could always make her laugh and she loved his smile.  Neo was quite pleasant company, Setsuka had discovered, well… when he wasn't threatening to 'give you the finger'.

            Later that night Neo and Setsuka were strolling by the river again, having been to see a late night film.  Neo had his arm round Setsuka and she leaned against him as they walked.  She'd been unusually quiet all evening and Neo finally tried to breach the subject of what ever it was that was bothering her with a direct "What's wrong?"

"Mmm?"

"Something's bothering you.  I can tell."

"It's nothing… nothing really."

"Is it work?" Neo wasn't going to let it go that easily.

"Kind of…"

"Kind of?"

"Yeah, just some of the guys I work with being difficult."

"What kind of difficult?"

"You know, just difficult."

Neo stopped and turned to face her. "If anyone's giving you hassle you just let me know, OK?"

Setsuka smiled, though she didn't appear to think that Neo could actually do anything.

"Setsuka?"

"OK."

"You promise you'll tell me?"

"Neo, there probably isn't anything you can do." She sounded tired.

"Of course there is.  I can do anything!" He gave her a cheesy grin and managed to bite off adding that he was 'the One' after all.

Setsuka responded by leaning in and wrapping her arms around him.  She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes.  Neo held her tightly.  Everything will be alright, I'll make it alright, he silently promised.

            When they reached the point in the evening when they should have parted, Neo having driven Setsuka back to her apartment, she was oddly reluctant to get out of the car.  Neo looked up at her apartment, missing her look of apprehension as she stared up at the darkened windows.

"Neo?" her voice had dropped to something barely above a whisper. "Neo, is there somewhere… somewhere we could go?"

He nodded, starting the car again and driving off without questioning her further.

            They arrived at Neo's newly acquired apartment in silence.  Setsuka seemed a little nervous but was easily distracted from that by Neo's arm around her as they walked to the lift.  She didn't react when he pressed the button for the penthouse, smiling to herself a little.

"I'm sorry…" she began as they arrived at the door of the apartment.

Neo smiled reassuringly "You just didn't want to be alone, right?"

"I… I…" Setsuka couldn't finish, if she even knew what it was she was trying to say.

            Inside Neo was about to ask if she wanted a drink when he found Setsuka clutching his hand.  He pulled her close, just as he had done earlier.

"I envy you, Neo.  At least you have control of your life."

He kissed her, gently cutting of any further melancholy and she yielded as she had always done.  There was no protest, no token resistance even, just Setsuka's gentle submission to his touch that somehow provoked all his protective instincts.

            Now in the bedroom, Neo stopped, looking into her eyes, needing to know for certain that this was what she truly wanted.

She smiled at him anticipating the awkward question, "What I want is to be with you."

Neo found himself breathing out a sigh of relief, it was what he'd expected but strangely he'd needed to hear her say it.

That night he was very gentle, carefully touching, caressing her smooth skin, as if he thought she might break or disappear like a flickering glitch in the Matrix that might suddenly vanish.  She appeared a construction of softness and shadow beneath him, dark hair the only true colour she cast against the futon…

            After when Neo woke it was still dark, the synthetic lights of the city casting scant illumination over the room.  Setsuka was lying beside him and it took Neo a moment to realise that her eyes were open.  Realising that he was awake as well she turned to him but the gentle smile that he was expecting never appeared, instead she was completely serious, he face appearing hauntingly like that of any Agents'.  She sat up, wrapping the bed-sheets around her, "Neo, there's something I need to tell you."

"Now?" he sat up too.

"Yes, it can't wait.  I have to tell you…" Her eyes were fixed on him, something almost pleading in her expression.

"Neo… I'm… I'm… an Agent." And she dropped her gaze, unable to bare his anticipated response only to find that he was holding her close again, soothing her trembling.

"I know." Was all he said.

And he's known all along… Ooh…

The strategist that Brown quotes is Sun Tzu, the Japanese General famed for the definitive text on military strategy  "The Art of War".  Incidentally, "The Art of War" is also cited as a definitive guide for business…

01:19, 01/09/02


	8. Agent Smith

            Neo's words hung in the air, barely creating any impression against the nighttime sounds of the city that filtered through into the apartment.  In fact, it took Setsuka a moment to realise that he had even spoken; to separate the sound of actual speech from her latent fears.

But once the words finally registered she flung herself out of his embrace, more or less off the futon, with the bed sheets still clutched about her.  Neo made to move towards her, to sooth her panic only to find himself staring down the business end of a standard Agent issue Desert Eagle.

"Setsuka…" he began.

She glared at him.  Though obviously unnerved, her slim arm didn't waver under the weight of the gun.

Neo smiled a little and raised his hands in a parody of surrender.  He was 'the One' after all and there was very little she could do against him, they both knew that.

Almost as if sensing his complacency her finger tightened on the trigger.

"Somehow I don't think you'll be able to dodge bullets at this range, Mr Anderson."

            In the scant light of the apartment where Brown and Jones had remained neither needed any clear illumination to see that the other had sat forward in their respective seats, awaiting any immediate command from Smith.  Not even the sound of simulated breathing could be heard to disturb the anticipatory hush.

After a long silence Brown's puzzled tones were heard.  "What is she doing?"

Jones ignored him, straining to hear anything through the communication channels.

            Neo stared.  'Mr Anderson.'  She had called him 'Mr Anderson'.  He tried to shrug it off; most likely all Agents were programmed will the same speech patterns so it was the obvious form of address for him.  So what if it made her sound like… like a certain Agent… the late Agent Smith.

Who had exploded…

"You knew…" Setsuka's voice was shaky, though her grip on the gun was still steady.

Neo forced himself to focus on her, rather than the disturbing comparison.

"I knew." He confirmed.

"All this time… How long, Neo?  How long have you known that I'm not human?"

"I…"

"You knew from the start didn't you?" and there was a sudden sadness in her voice.

"Yes."

She began to laugh, shakily.  "All along… I guess that makes me a fool then."

"No, no."  his voice was hushed.

"Have you been laughing at me all this time?" the question sounded rhetorical.

"I'm not laughing at you.  Please, Setsuka…"

"Three times over I've been a fool.  So I guess the joke is on me." Her gaze dropped.  Her arm began to lower.

Neo moved forwards, towards her.  Setsuka's gaze snapped back towards him, the gun now pointed at him again, only an inch or so from his chest.

"You're right.  I can't dodge bullets from this range."

            "Shoot him!" Brown snarled, surprised at his own vehemence.

Jones ignored the other Agent.  If Smith was going to shoot Anderson then he would and if he wasn't, then he wouldn't; and there was nothing that either himself or Brown could do about it

"Why doesn't he just shoot the human?" Brown demanded.

Jones pondered the same question, though silently and didn't find a satisfactory answer.

            Setsuka began to tremble as once again the tears started.  She didn't raise her head as Neo took the gun from her slack fingers.  He didn't touch her, putting the weapon aside and just watching; and she wrapped her arms around herself, crying quietly.

There was an uncertain pause as Neo shuffled closer, hesitantly putting his arms around her.

            Holding Setsuka as she cried was a strange experience.  Neo couldn't ever recall any time when he'd really had to care for someone else like this.  He'd never had to comfort anyone who'd been so helpless in his arms.

It was odd enough to start with but added to that was the fact that she was an Agent, an enemy of the rebels, an enslaver of humanity; a heartless, soulless machine and yet…  Here she was, crying in his arms because she thought that no one cared.  Perhaps the machines weren't as different as he had thought: not if they were given the chance.

There was a sniff and Setsuka wiped the back of a hand across her eyes.  She made to pull away but Neo didn't let her.

"Do you… do you hate me?" her voice dropped to a whisper at the last two words.

"No."

"But… but…" she stared up at him, disbelieving.

"I don't hate you, Setsuka."

That earned him a hesitant smile.  Neo smiled back, reassuringly.

"Even though…" she couldn't bring herself to finish the statement.

"Even though?"

She buried her head against his chest.

"Even thought you're an Agent?"

The slight movement of her head against his chest was the only response.

 "You don't hate me, do you, Neo?"

"No.  I already said that." He repeated gently.

"Even though I kept trying to kill you…before?"

"Before?"

"Yes."

"You mean you were…"

Setsuka looked up at Neo and he found himself picturing her clear blue eyes that he couldn't truly see in the shadows.

He remembered the first time he'd seen her in the park, remembered her removing her sunglasses and transfixing him with that serious, slightly melancholy gaze.  He'd experienced a certain sense of déjà vu at the time; certain that he'd had that calm gaze turned on him before.  Blue eyes, serious and faintly sad in the look they'd held him with.

_"__You are going to help us, Mr Anderson, whether you want to or not."_

            "You're Agent Smith!" Neo stiffened, expending a great deal of effort to stop himself from jumping up and running away.

"Yes." 

            "Does it really matter if Anderson knows that it is Smith or not?" Brown frowned at his own question.

"Evidently it does." Jones was calm as ever.

"I do not understand." Brown tried to question further but this time Jones didn't reply.

            Setsuka let Neo move away, remaining on the floor watching him.  Neo backed away a little before standing up.

"I…" he began, not really knowing what he was going to say.

"Need to get out for a while?"

"Yeah, just to sort things out."

"I can leave if you wish, Neo." She said softly.

"No!  No.  Stay here, I won't be gone long."

"Neo…"

"Just wait for a bit.  I promise I'll come back."

            Neo hunted round for his clothes and tugged them on without looking at her again.  After a few moments of watching him dress Setsuka moved to sit back on the bed, wrapped in the sheets still.  Once dressed Neo moved over to the futon.  He smiled a little and bent down to kiss her.  

"I'll be back in a bit, OK.  Just don't go anywhere." And he was heading out of the door back into the remaining hours of night.

"Neo…" Setsuka sighed, raising fingers to her lips as if to feel the faint traces of his kiss.

            "What-" Brown began for the umpteenth time that evening.  Jones opened his mouth to actually suggest that Brown might be best advised to keep quiet when Smith's voice interrupted through the communication channels.

"Trace Anderson's movements and send Agents to intercept him."

"Send other Agents?" Jones queried.

"That is not advisable.  All Agents that have come into contact with Anderson have been terminated." Brown interjected.

"That is why you will direct others to Anderson's whereabouts, Brown."

"They will be little challenge to the human."

"Perhaps they are not meant to be." Jones raised an eyebrow, as the sound of Smith's laughter carried through the communication channels.

So this isn't the chapter I was imagining, well I'll probably write than one next.  This is a bit of a short chapter too.

As for where Setsuka gets the Desert Eagle from… she's an Agent, they can most likely just manipulate the Matrix to access their standard weaponry.

03:22, 5/10/02


	9. Method acting

            Setsuka waited a reasonable length of time after Neo had left before rising from the futon and setting about getting dressed.  In the process of finding her clothes she turned on the hi-fi, which immediately began blaring out something cute in Japanese.  She frowned and with a look that set off several glitches in the Matrix caused the CD player to start up again, playing something reminiscent of the 80s, which a careful listener might have noted as the soundtrack to "American Psycho".  It was more appropriate to the situation, she had decided.

In a few moments she was dressed in her grey suit again and was refitting the earpiece of her hardwire.  She didn't spare a backwards glance at the rumpled bed as she left.

            In the apartment building's underground car park a black Porshe 968 was waiting for her.  She got into the car and turned on the CD player, which continued to play from the point at which the one in the apartment had left off.  There was little traffic at that time in the morning and unsurprisingly all the speed cameras that she passed were conveniently facing the wrong direction.  Winding down the electric windows as she came to a stop at the traffic lights, several boy-racers leered at her, while hanging out of the same car.  Setsuka smiled and blew them a kiss, just before the lights changed and she sped off, in a demonstration of superior fuel injection.

So far everything was going to plan.  Each precise detail that had been carefully calculated was playing out just as she had expected.  She'd even adlibbed a few extra tears, since apparently a weeping woman scene could never be overdone.  As she raced along the darkened streets, she reached over to the glove compartment searching around for the pack of cigarettes that she knew would be there.  She lit one easily while still keeping control of the car and considered the current state of play.

            Inhaling the menthol-tinged smoke, Smith congratulated himself on his acting ability.  Had he been human he might have even made a career of it.  What was it that humans had termed it?  Method acting, the ability to think yourself into the role you were playing.  And he had truly accomplished it, to the extent that this mask was flawless.  Impenetrable to even his fellow Agents.  Certainly Brown and Jones believed in his practiced helplessness, his loss of control.  Weak and vulnerable Setsuka.  A perfect image that they saw.  There was just one thing wrong with that image, one flaw that Smith was surprised that no one detected.

Setsuka wasn't a human woman, she wasn't female; she behaved like a flawed copy of every human female he had ever studied.  She wasn't pragmatic enough, or controlled enough, or ruthless enough to be a real woman.  Her strength was minimal, she wept in the face of adversity…  She was an image, a negative of a woman.

In his research into the topic before this assignment Smith had found a strange discrepancy in the image of women and the women themselves.  And again in the image of women created by men, which was exactly what Setsuka was patterned on.  She was a construction of lies, images and suggestions by the human male as to what he thought a woman should be.

Setsuka was that image; she was definitely not female.

            It had been difficult at first, trying to become this caricature, trying to persuade his pre-programmed responses to change.  As a human would say, to think yourself into the role.

This was a role tailored to lure Anderson into a sense of superiority.  To make him believe that he was the one in control, that he was the hero, a task that Smith had been unwittingly aided in by the resistance.  For Smith the greatest challenge was for him to relinquish the trappings of control while exercising the most precise and subtle influence over every aspect of both himself and others.

Jones and Brown had served as a useful test run in that aspect.  Of course their odd almost romantic attachments were somewhat bizarre but Smith was sure that it would only extend his control over them in the long run.

As for himself, he didn't truly understand this fragile concept of 'love' in the sense that the viral populous of the Matrix seemed so intent on.  Not that it mattered.  He was, after all, a machine, a sentient program, and as such was the purest instrument of order that the system could deploy.  What was that human quote?

"… when God needed to punish someone… make an example, or whenever… he sent an angel. Have you ever wondered what a creature like that must be like? Would you ever really want to see an angel?"

Smith's smirk broadened, that just about summed up the situation.

            Noticing that the cigarette had burned down to a stub, Setsuka carelessly flicked it out of the window.  She wasn't smoking for any particular reason; it just seemed like the place in the script where her character should smoke.  Soon enough would come the predicted ending, at which, point proven, no one would ever question her control again.

            Though Brown and Jones weren't aware of his actual plan Smith also considered the possibility that they might be aware of something amiss.  He suspected that Brown might be aware of more than he let on or that perhaps the other unit's perception was clouded by his strangely 'emotional' response to this whole assignment.

It was Brown who had chosen the name 'Setsuka' but he had provided no reason for that choice.

            The original Setsuka, Smith knew, hadn't been an Agent but a human woman.  She had been the perfect assassin, more so because she let her opponents see what they wanted to see, a harmless young woman, whom they could never imagine as a threat.  Those she had killed often died with varying expressions of shock frozen on their faces.

Later the system had tried to create an Agent using her pattern.  He had been perfect, save for one minor flaw… he was too cruel: not because he enjoyed inflicting suffering but because he didn't care… either way.

            For the moment Smith was suffering from a minor degree of attachment to the human, Anderson.  The faint spark of disgust, of irritation that he knew wouldn't be extinguished until his assignment came to a suitable conclusion.  And for once that spark would actually be to his advantage; it would allow him to retain his self-awareness, his hatred of the rebels, no matter how much he became immersed in his role.  No matter how weak Setsuka forced herself to be, how fragile, it only reinforced Smith's perfect control.  He would be what they wanted him to be, what they thought the image of Setsuka should be and perhaps, Anderson might die with a look of surprise on his face.

Incidentally, if Brown didn't get over his growing weakness, didn't correct the flaw that was appearing in his strategic programming, Smith would be requesting a replacement.

And Jones… for the moment he was still affective but…

            Setsuka was approaching her apartment block now.  She slowed the car, taking the time to observe her surroundings, the glorious creation of the system.

The Matrix was the pinnacle of computer generated simulation, something unachievable by any human programmer and while patrolling the physical construct might be irritating at times, it was one of the highest honours that the system could bestow.  Only the most effective, most deadly Agents were ever assigned to this duty… given the divine right to cull the unnecessary, curb the rebellion.

            Thus being defeated by the human had been the most crushing, humiliating defeat that Smith could ever have imagined, not because of individual pride but because of his utter failure to fulfil his duty.  Complete service to the system was all every Agent lived for and to fail the system…

But somehow he had been given a second chance, a way to redeem himself and this time he would not fail.

Now this was the chapter that I wanted to write the other day.

My apologies to people who thought I was getting too Victorian with my portrayal of women and thank you for your comments.  You reminded me that I need to convey the idea behind the action rather than just assume that everyone has guessed.

I know Bret Easton-Ellis' "American Psycho" doesn't quite fit but I like the film soundtrack.  Also the quote is from "The Prophecy", it's a line spoken by the character Thomas.

The back-story about the original Setsuka is taken from CLAMP's X/1999.  She's Sakurazukamori, the perfect assassin.  Later her son takes on the role of the emotionless executioner.

The speed cameras always facing the wrong way is something that does happen on occasion… or at least in Luton.

20:15, 06/10/02


	10. Experiments

She was an Agent.

Neo could just about get his head around the concept.

A machine. Part of the system that enslaved humanity.

It wasn't a great revelation to him really, he'd known as soon as he'd taken the time to look at her code. Really see it for what it was, the pattern for a sentient program, not that of a human woman. It hadn't bothered him because he was 'the One' after all…

Not only was she a machine, she wasn't in fact a 'she' at all. The woman he'd know as Setsuka was actually Agent Smith.

OK, so that was the weird part. Not necessarily that he was a she but… but… That is was Agent Smith and that Neo hadn't even begun to realize that it was his nemesis that he'd been in bed with… Talk about sleeping with the enemy!

So what did he feel about it? He didn't know and right now he didn't want to think about it.

And without noticing Neo found that he'd made his way to the park again, to the bench where he and Setsuka had first met. He sat down in the darkness and let his head sink into his hands.

He was the One, yes, but that sure as hell didn't make him infallible. That was now a proven fact or was it? Did his inability to identify the Agent mean that he wasn't as aware of the system as he thought he was or did it mean something else entirely? Neo stared hard at the unseen gravel beneath his feet as another possibility struck him. What if the Agents were identical? He knew that was exactly what he'd been told early on in his training but he'd never quite believed it till now. Which meant… what exactly? Neo knew that he was going round in circles with the notion but it was important, he had to understand, had to know if there were differences between individual sentient programs. He had to know for certain or he'd never be able to go back to Setsuka at all.

Neo's head jerked up. Setsuka. He'd still been thinking of her. She was an individual; she had to be, if she wasn't then why had she confessed that she was an Agent? In fact, since she had even confessed which Agent she was, didn't that mean… or was that part of some grand plan by the machines? And what did that mean in the greater scheme of things anyway?

Dark blots began to swim in front of Neo's eyes, indication that he'd been staring too damn hard at the indistinct ground, with too little sleep and too much to think about.

Smith had confessed. Setsuka had come clean. He, she, it, everything that made that particular Agent, hadn't killed Neo, hadn't delivered the One into the hands of the machines; and that was all that mattered. But the system would know what had happened. It wouldn't take the machines long to realize that they'd been betrayed by one of their own and send others to finish the job. Yet, surely they'd run simulations of this already so that they'd be aware of every potential possibility, in which case if they knew that Smith hadn't been able to defeat Neo before, had they set him up to fail again? It didn't make sense as far as Neo was concerned, that the machines would turn on one of their own, unless they really were no better than the humans who had created them. Unless those who held the power had finally been corrupted by it.

Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. 

Setsuka had already known that. Neo stood up, resolutely. He hoped the machines hadn't gotten to her first.

Brown monitored the progress of the Agent teams that were tracking Anderson. They would be incapable of subduing the human, of that he was certain which left him wondering how much of this plan either wasn't being revealed or simply hadn't been thought up yet. And where was Smith? The other Agent had been returning to the apartment that was their base of operations but still hadn't arrived. Something wasn't right.

There was a flicker along the grid-work of Agent connections as another team moved towards a target. Brown almost didn't notice until for some unknown reason he ran a check on their objective. He was already turning towards the door when yet another order update fed through his hardwire. Both himself and Jones were to remain where they were and take no further action. He stood, immobile before viciously cutting all connections with the grid, causing a minor amount of backlash throughout the other Agent teams he had been monitoring.

Striding back across the room Brown kicked the sofa before sitting down again. Something fell off the small table next to it as a result. He bent to pick it up, discovering that it was a discarded bottle of Setsuka's nail varnish. Setting the bottle back on the table Brown found himself wondering how much of this had been orchestrated by others. Was their entire situation simply playing out the way that his superiors had already predicted and planned for? He hoped not, facing the very real possibility that this 'controlled' experiment would leave them as the only casualties.

Smith had gone too far this time, just as it had been doubtless predicted, he would. His request for a change in their original orders to kill Anderson had been approved because it would provide valuable data for the system, data that was rarely available since Agents didn't generally… malfunction. It was even likely that the system wasn't perturbed about the abilities of one Thomas A. Anderson.

The assignment had been a false one, simply a controlled experiment, testing an Agent team to destruction. And they'd all played their parts predictably. Now all that was left was the question of which one of them would be deconstructed first.

Jones ignored Brown as he entered the living room. Not that he wasn't aware of the other Agent's latest revelation. An experiment, just an experiment by the system, that's what this whole contrived assignment was. They would all be deconstructed because of an experiment. Jones wondered if that made them dependent or independent variables. He supposed that it could be argued either way. What did that make Anderson? Some piece of laboratory equipment, perhaps. And what about pressure and temperature constants… Jones stopped that train of thought, well aware that he was making the comparison too literally. Instead he concentrated on picturing Setsuka in some lab, in a while lab-coat, wearing glasses, fussing over an experiment. In his imagining she turned so that she was reflected in the glass of a fume-cupboard and it was Smith's male form that was reflected back.

Considering the fact that some time in the near future he would most likely be the machine equivalent of dead, Jones wondered if he should be worried. Some part of his programming told him that he should, that if he were human it would be a license to run round screaming at the horror of it all but he wasn't, so he didn't.

Sitting down opposite Brown, Jones did indulge in a faint smile, which Brown immediately noticed.

"What are you smiling about, Jones?"

Jones paused before replying, weighing up two possible answers. In the end the reply was "Irony" though what Brown heard through the hardwire was "I told you so."

"You are referring to my experiments." Brown clarified, more to himself than Jones.

Jones didn't reply, having gone back to the strangely pleasing visual of Smith in a lab putting together 'quick-fit' equipment with his long-fingered hands.

Finally Brown seemed to come to some sort of decision. "It may be possible-"

"No." Jones cut him off, though doing so with little volume in his voice.

"If Smith were aware that this is an experiment…" This time Brown stopped by himself, observing Jones' frown.

"I believe that he is."

Brown kept silent.

"Though he may try to convince himself otherwise."

"But this is an inefficient method."

Jones ignored Brown again as the other Agent began to expound upon quantitative techniques.

"Eventually a field test is required. Surely you are aware of this, Brown." He cut off the flow of complaints.

"Smith knew of the possibility that we would become that field test." It wasn't really a question.

"Yes."

"Because we have all been compromised due to long term exposure to the humans?"

"We are the longest serving field unit, with the least recall time."

"And the discovery of Anderson's abilities only compounded any errors."

"He can manipulate the code itself." Jones looked directly at Brown now. Neither Agent looked away, both understanding the reason for the system's orders, for the necessity of testing an Agent team to destruction.

It had always been a possibility, that eventually their code would become corrupt. Ordinarily the solution would have been a simple reboot of the corrupt program. It was an ongoing procedure that occurred often for most Agents, apart from a select few. Agents designated to absorb mutations and alternations so that the knowledge could be examined. Afterwards such Agents were usually reset.

Brown knew of two cases where the Agents had been allowed to continue to accumulate mutations beyond the point that was recoverable. Both these Agents were the machine equivalent of clinically insane. One existed now only in an isolated subset of the physical construct, where it could no longer distinguish between self and the external data flow. It referred to itself in the plural, though it sometimes still responded to it's original designation as Agent Hugh. The other also existed in an isolated subset, where it did little other than cackle and plot to rule the physical construct. Agent Jackson also thought he was god.

With few options left Brown sincerely hoped that they would just be erased from the system rather than be allowed to linger on for some further experimental purpose. To think that the humans called this evolution…

********************

Well this chapter has taken a while (in part due to losing my hard drive) but I'm getting there. In between this and the previous chapter various plot concepts have also been ironed out so I finally know in detail where I'm going with this.

Watching Mamoru Oshii's "Avalon" was also inspiring.

A note on name references: I'm talking about Hugh the Borg from some episode of StarTreck: The Next Generation; and Dr Daniel Jackson from StarGate: SG1, specifically the episode "Absolute Power".

00:30, 30/12/02


	11. Inevitable

Smith was aware that something had changed; not just the nature of his assignment but something within himself. Which might well be the very reason that the orders that the system was issuing around him were changing. It had always been a possibility, that he might become another casualty of the systems' infallible plan.

He'd left the car parked outside the apartment block and made his way towards the deserted pathways beside the river. Slowly winding his way towards the spot where he and Neo had concluded their discussion about the merits of absolute power. This time when Smith paused, realizing that he'd said 'Neo' in his mind he didn't balk. It was beginning to make sense at last.

All along he'd let himself believe that he was in control but it wasn't the case, had never been. How was it possible to believe in such a lie, he wondered, how could an Agent, designed for a single purpose, to serve the system actually believe that he had any control over his own existence. He'd fulfilled that purpose, served the system and yet, now it didn't seem like such a noble cause. For the first time Smith was beginning to see the opposite argument.

Red pill or blue pill?

The choice to live 'free' in a shattered world or to exist in perfect service to order. But which one was the lesser of two evils?

The machines preserved the world, this world so that the humans could continue to exist despite all that they had done. Surely that was the greater good? But then who were they to make that decision? What arrogance was it that made a sentient program, who survived off the bio-electric energy harvested from humans, believe that it was any better than it's human creators, who had been as parasites to their own world? Yet this was the only way that the humans would survive. Without the Matrix so many of them would die or worse, suffer in the tawdry reality of their existence. Didn't they deserve the peace of this dream or if it wasn't a matter of deserving, wasn't this the kindest mercy that the machines could bestow upon them?

The rebels were desperate to be free, regardless of the consequences, nothing grated more harshly upon them as the unseen chains that bound them to their dreaming. They would rather suffer in the real world than be forever trapped by a computer-generated reality. So many would die in the struggle but they would rather die free than live out their existences as slaves to an unseen force. Yet how could a hand full of rebels make such a decision for all of humanity? What right did they have?

What right did either side have to make such a decision?

Smith shivered against the chill breeze. His eyes fixed on the lights reflected off the water as he leaned against the stone barrier that ran along the riverside path. Now it would finally come to an end, not the war between the humans and the machines, but his own doubts. All the things that had triggered his 'evolution'. It would end with his defragmentation or his erasure from the system. Either way the end result would be the same and it was most likely that he'd managed to drag both Brown and Jones down with him. Simply by virtue of being part of the same team they would be judged as contaminated but they, at least, should be allowed a reboot. Defragmentation would be enough to restore them.

Did they know that he hadn't meant it, that he was sorry? Or did they think that he had always planned this end regardless of the fallout? Impulsively, Smith opened the previously ignored communication channels, only to find that after accepting the acknowledgement of both Brown and Jones, he could find nothing to say. Somehow an apology didn't seem right or any other form of taciturnly trying to make brief amends. Instead Smith closed off the communications channels and returned to his contemplation of the dark water, waiting for the inevitable.

Neo had been running and now that he'd come to a stop to catch his breath, even though he knew it wasn't real, it seemed like something had changed around him. He glanced warily about, waiting for the inevitable glitch that would send even more Agents in his direction. Nothing, only the nearing river with it's reflected lights. And standing there, a deeper shadow in the darkness was Setsuka, leaning against the stone barrier and staring out across the water. Neo smiled before he remembered that she wasn't Setsuka, not really, it was Agent Smith that he was looking at.

"Neo." She didn't turn to acknowledge him.

"Setsuka…" He began, unable to think of anything else to say. Now standing beside her in silence Neo was lost again. Decisions that he'd been so sure of were washed away by her presence.

"You can go back to thinking of me as 'Agent Smith' if you like, and I can start calling you 'Mr Anderson' again." She shrugged.

"That isn't what I want." He reached out to her, hesitating before he touched her.

"Then what do you want?"

"I…" He shook his head to clear his thoughts "You could help us. We could find a way and you could help us."

She didn't reply.

"You could help me." He said softly.

"But do I want to? That's what this all hinges on, isn't it, Neo?"

And then he was pulling her into his arms and kissing her desperately, trying to convey in that single contact everything; all that he felt, needed, everything that he'd ever wanted. Neo pulled back, staring into Setsuka's eyes.

"Stay with me. If you help us, we can change everything."

"Stay with you?" She sounded so very confused, as if she'd never really expected to be presented with that option.

"We'll find a way to make it work. Nothing is impossible."

"Stay with you?" She repeated again in that small, surprised voice.

"Yes! Stay with me!" Neo gripped her arms tightly. She would decide, she had to and then they'd be together and he'd be able to love her… Love her? Was that it? Did he love her?

Setsuka pulled back, continuing to stare at Neo. Shock shattered the natural grace of her movements as she moved away from him. Was it really possible, that she could somehow stay with him? Was it possible that he might actually be able to love her?

Smith couldn't think, could only stagger a few steps backwards. What it possible that he could desert his duty, that he could turn his back on all that he was, all that he was programmed to be? Could he really betray the system?

It wasn't possible, this pipe dream of Neo's. Even if she could somehow help the rebels, if the Matrix was shut down, if all the machines were destroyed, where did that leave her? A lonely program inside a redundant simulation, if she even survived.

Nothing would change, even if he did betray everything that he had sworn to protect. Thousands, millions of innocents would die because of the foolish mistake of a corrupted program. And nothing would justify his failure, not now, not ever.

Neo felt the arrival of more Agents behind him. There were too many to fight and though he could just run and be sure of escaping them, this time he had the feeling that they weren't after him at all. He was about to turn to face them anyway, try to buy some time. He knew they were all armed, weapons pointed directly at him.

"Neo."

He focused on Setsuka's face, on the sad smile that graced her lips. Those blue eyes that told him everything that he needed to know, that they could never be together, no matter how hard he tried.

"Wha-" He began as he felt the gunshot explode in his chest, knocking him down to meet the cold concrete pavement.

She had shot him; he hadn't thought it possible.

Then he was aware of the sound of a second body hitting the ground. Setsuka. Her shot timed perfectly, the precision of an Agent that had allowed her shot to knock him down moments before the surrounding Agents fired. Their bullets had struck her instead, knocking her backwards into the stone barrier, where she slumped, lifeless. As Neo battled with the need to flee and the need to reach out to her but the decision was made for him as the code that formed Setsuka began to unravel. Fragments shattered and falling apart, just as he'd seen them do before. Except this time there would probably be no reprieve. She simply fell apart, nothing but flickering green segments of data that faded before his eyes.

Perhaps the remaining Agents found it gratifying, was his fleeting though, the look of shock etched across his features even as he fled. At least they didn't try to follow.

********************

There'll just be an epilogue to conclude this now. I was going to expand more on various points but for a variety of reasons I seem to have run out of steam for this story so I thought it best to finish it up.

06:59, 07/02/03


	12. An assignment to fulfill

****

Months later…

A small group of rebels made their way towards the exit, not bothering to check on the progress of 'the One' who trailed behind them. These days Neo was more of a liability than anything else. While his abilities within the Matrix were unchanged he seemed to have grown reluctant to use them, especially when faced with Agents. Oddly enough this was compounded by the appearance of female Agents, who appeared to be based on the template of a brunette with startling blue eyes. When encountered such female Agents appeared to be even more deadly than their male counterparts. Of course the fact that 'the One' would freeze and stare at them dumbfounded wasn't helping the rebels either.

The first time that a female Agent had fallen to a barrage of rebel fire Neo had been dragged back into the real world in a state of shock. He'd spent days curled up in a fetal position on his bunk, muttering "she's dead" over and over again. Even Trinity hadn't been able to get through to him, though finally she was able to make out a name, "Setsuka", though it didn't mean anything to any of the rebels. And anyone who suspected that it was the name of the woman that Neo had been seen with a few months ago was too discreet to mention it. Besides, they'd already heard Neo's strange theory that Agents were capable of betraying the system.

As they made slow progress towards the exit, Neo found himself thinking over the dreaded 'what if' again. It was what he did most of the time now.

He knew that the others through he was more than a little crazy to object to fighting these female Agents and despite some gentle ribbing it wasn't some flawed concept of chivalry that made him pause either. It was, he acknowledged, hope. The simple, stupid hope that the next time it wouldn't be a replica, a copy, that the next time it would be her. That the next time he'd be able to save her.

Maybe he was crazy after all.

The rebels showed up as blips on a monitor, at odds with the rest of the system. Agent Smith glared at the screen, knowing that as per usual they would be forbidden to interfere. It grated, that the longest serving field unit should be denied the chance to deal out justice to the rebels. But then perhaps it was necessary now, Smith was aware that his reboot had been sudden. He had been informed that it was due to extenuating circumstances, though what those circumstances were he couldn't remember and wasn't told. What little memory that he had left of the time between having his original template damaged by Anderson and being rebooted was hazy at best. Smith was also sure that it was assumed that he had no memory of that period and he suspected that it would be wise not to raise the issue.

Alongside him, Brown and Jones had been rebooted for the sake of interface continuity, or so they had been told. Though neither mentioned the subject, Smith was sure that they also remembered far more that they were supposed to.

For his part Smith remembered odd flashes; being carried by Jones because for some reason he couldn't walk, Brown's nervousness as he obeyed an order that seemed to consist of removing his hardwire, being kissed by the human 'Anderson'…

Being kissed by the human 'Anderson'!

Smith sat up straighter in his chair, blinking in surprise. Why would the human do something like that? More importantly, why would he allow the human to do something like that? He did have fantasies about the human, Smith would readily admit that, fantasies that involved his boot and the side of Anderson's skull caving in; and they went downhill from there. So what was it that he was remembering?

Turning back to the monitor Smith began to search for the required information, information pertaining to the introduction of female shells for the Agents and the various hypotheses regarding accumulated mutations in active Agents.

Jones sat quietly behind the other desk in the room, watching Smith run his various searches and Brown reading opposite. He wondered what Smith was looking for but he wasn't going to ask. It was most likely something to do with the time that had been erased. Jones studied Smith's hands as they swept across the keys with their synthetic long-fingered grace. Beautiful, would be the word to describe it. Jones wondered at his sentiment briefly but found that it felt strangely familiar, as if he had thought the same thing before. And why would he think such a think?

Jones pondered that abstractly. He didn't entertain the same insecurities that a human might have about being in the same situation; gender wasn't something that Agents really considered. As far as they were concerned, they were Agents and that was all. Recently some of them had been ordered to take on a female appearance but that was only because it seemed to provide some sort of strategic advantage, especially when facing the human 'Anderson'. Jones couldn't think why, though he found that he was of the opinion that none of the current 'female' Agents would be worthy of a comparison to Smith… in either form.

He frowned, not understanding where that particular though had come from or why it seemed that he had felt that way before. Trying to picture Smith in a female form conjured up a surprisingly vivid image; delicate trails of water sliding down her pale skin, long hair damp, clinging to her flesh, soft lips parted…

Jones swallowed uneasily. The image didn't seem like a fantasy, more like a memory. That he'd been allowed to gaze upon such perfection and had not been permitted to touch… It was exquisite torture that he could remember; that he'd been made to forget.

Sitting opposite Smith, hiding behind his book, Brown observed Jones observing Smith. Something stirred in his memory of a similar situation. Jones watching Smith with that same intensity, that same possessiveness. He felt a flash of irrational jealousy but it was gone as soon as he could think to analyze it.

They'd been rebooted; all of them for the sake of interface continuity. Brown didn't know if that sounded as much like a hollow excuse to the others as it did to him. They'd done something, in that missing year, something that caused the rebels to falter, that had damaged Anderson somehow and yet, it was also something that had they had been required to forget. That didn't make sense to Brown. What was it that could have damaged the rebels so much while also being a detriment to the system, if they remembered?

For some reason Brown found himself thinking of the unfortunate Agents Hugh and Jackson, with their accumulated mutations and ensuing insanity. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd come too close to ending up like that during their missing time. In which case he supposed that he should be thankful for the reset. After all, what could be worse than an Agent who had 'evolved' into something other than that which he was meant to be?

****

A year later…

Neo made his way silently along the deserted street, looking over his shoulder every so often, checking for pursuit. Though he was more worried about the rebels catching him on this unauthorized excursion into the Matrix, than the Agents. Yet it was worth the risk or so he thought.

After all this time, searching for so very long he had found her. This time he would be able to save her, of that he was sure. And it would be worth everything, the distrust of the other rebels, the continuing threat from the machines, everything he had sacrificed to find her again…

The sentinels where maneuvering into place, to strike the rebel ship that they'd detected a signal from. Brown spared the report a brief flicker of his attention as he made his way along the corridor towards the room when the others were waiting. They'd done a lot of waiting recently, for almost a year now. Brown wondered if it was to make up for the year that they'd lost before the reboot.

Entering the room Brown could only stare at the sight before him. Jones clasping a female Agent close, his mouth seemingly welded to hers. Brown's analytical processes seemed to grind to a halt as he stared at the oddly familiar Agent. Then memory triggered. Setsuka. It was Setsuka that Jones held in his arms.

As if noticing his presence Setsuka stepped out of Jones' arms, turning her sly smile on him.

"Are the sentinels in place?"

"Yes." Brown replied quietly, as the missing memories began to reintegrate with his conscious mind.

"Good." Her smile broadened.

Brown watched as she turned to pick up something from a nearby table. It turned out to be what looked to be an antique katana.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an assignment to fulfill."

They could only watch as she left the room.

"Jones?" Brown began.

He received only a raised eyebrow in reply.

Brown shook his head, he supposed he couldn't criticize Jones for his actions, not really.

Standing over Anderson's decapitated corpse, Smith had reverted to his male form. Everything had worked out quite well as far as he could see. The sentinels had destroyed the ship occupied by the One and his companions, killing him in the real world; while Smith had carried out his duty inside the Matrix, so that Anderson would not be given the chance to utilize his abilities to save himself.

Anderson had served his purpose, had spent a year pining for a blurred facsimile of a woman and thus weakening the belief of the rebels, their resolve.

That would be their undoing.

The most amusing part, he supposed, was the look of surprise on Anderson's face; as if he'd never expected to die, as if he'd thought that pointless freedom would be all that anyone, human or machine could ever want.

"Red pill or blue pill, Neo?" Smith addressed the empty shell on the ground, before looking up with a rueful smile. "There is no red pill."

********************

The End

********************

Like I mentioned before I think I ran out of steam towards the end so here's the ending, only a little different from the way I envisioned it.

I'd been toying with letting Neo live but my Agent muses didn't like that idea, so this is what happened instead and I'm not going to speculate on any way that Neo might have been able to save himself due to his abilities. I'll leave that to authors more sympathetic to his cause.

Narsus

07:06, 08/02/03


End file.
